His Sister
by Soul of Ashes
Summary: The clones break free of their dark torture, under the microscope of an evil science. They travel in search of themselves, overcoming hate, evolution, and insanity... The journey of a Sephiroth clone, and his female twin, Maya.
1. Free

Author's Notes: I don't own Sephiroth or some-such. Although THIS Sephiroth is a hypothetical clone that thinks he's the real deal... and the sister, Maya, is a creation of my beloved friend, Shannan, whom I've known for all my young roleplaying years. I wrote this in light of their history... sort of filling in what happened... I'll send this to her, see what she thinks. I know I tried starting something like it before, but since she's busy I figure I'll just write my own history.

It's rated due to blood, gore, and general insanity and emotional trauma. It... probably isn't most of my original fans' alley. It may include "clone-cest" in later chapters.

--Chapter 2--

_Free_

The sensation of being powerful - that was truly the best aspect of living. The power. The taste of it on his lips when the blood sprayed on his lips. The looks in the villagers' eyes, the passing glances they gave when he walked among them, a god in their eyes and an untouchable beauty in a few others. He smiled inside, knowing that, never in their darkest imagination, have they crafted such a nightmare as himself. Their unfathomable stupidity would lead them to the eventually dawning realization that they could never undo the damnation they wrought upon the world by simply bringing him into the world, just as his brethren didn't realize the unmatched sway they held over mankind.

That was why they all had to suffer. Such weaklings had no place in the world. He clenched his teeth and let the wet hot redness seep through his fingers as he reached into the gaping maw that he had cut with the katana which lay at his side, bloodied on the ground. He pushed apart the rubs and dug his fingers until he closed them around the thundering organ in his hands. His fingers pressed against the arteries, feeling their wild jumping movements as the fluid trembled and choked and sputtered. Ah, yes. God, this was what he was for. To feel life at its most powerful and crush it.

The blood sprayed everywhere and his prey died. He lifted the crushed heart out of the chest and looked at it, his lip curling as his tongue snaked out to lick the corner of his lips and tasting the blood there too. It was his own; he could tell as much from the exotic sweetness of it.

_Blood of my blood; blood of my enemy._

He stood up, looking over his shoulder. He knew well enough that everything would be fine, that all of the usurpers had fallen to his great satisfaction. His sister was late, though. She had yet to emerge from the entry way - two large doors, card key locked with a computer system that was now totally destroyed due to a solitary slash of steel after he was tired of fidgeting with the complicated number key.

Time was running thin. He bit his lip to keep from screaming. He crushed the heart and it made a final, satisfying popping sound like a piece of bubble wrap. Then from some distant echo in his mind, like the call of a cat down a long hallway, meowing and then scurrying forth on velvety paws, he felt the touch of her mind. It was like the purest caress on his body, making him shiver, feeling himself become one with her mind, linking the two like a beautiful pair they made. He felt the blood on his fingers which became her fingers, his heartbeat hers, his, hers, theirs completely.

She walked purposefully around the corner, the distorted glass wall mottling her image like a Van Gogh painting, then turn into the door to the office. Her boots clicked loudly, and though she stepped behind he could feel here there like a pulsating sun, beating down with her radiance on his back. Their minds split like painful copulation, fracturing their connection slightly.

"What was that for?" he whined, standing up. Her arms came around, her pale thin hands clasping at the fingers against his belly where she hugged him. Tightly, crushing desperate arms. She didn't answer him, and it made him slightly frustrated. He could never tell what she was feeling or thinking when she blocked him out like that, he being the saner of the two, so it was like a personal insult. He reached down, gripping her hands in his, and pulled them apart by the wrists. Her breath gasped against his shoulder blade.

"Did you have fun?" she whispered as he turned around in the circle of her arms. Their eyes met, capturing him... he could never shake the feeling that he was her little fly, and she was his spider, and she could play with him but never eat him. He half-expected her to invite him for coffee in the lounge room across the hall.

The corpse-littered room felt slightly uncomfortable. He heard the unavailing agony of the dead, returning the Planet. He shuddered, letting her arms close again. Her perfect brow creased, her deep sky grey eyes lightening with Mako infusion. "Are you cold, big brother?" she continued, touching his face, leaving a faint fingerprint in blood on his cheek. She kissed his neck. "Let's go now, before the rest of them come. You look... tired! That's not right, how can you be tired?"

"I'm tired of this place," he corrected with a slight smile. "I could run forever."

"With me?"

"Yes. With you. Always." Their hands met, fingers clasping and tightening till their knuckles turned white. It was a bizarre, unyielding grasp that oozed blood in between. He wanted to wash his hands now. He felt sick to his stomach.

They fled the office, identical in every aspect so much that they're gait was almost the same, side by side, elbows bumping with swords ablaze. They turned corners, kicked down doors, and slaughtered where they saw oppression. The images burned in his mind, taking away the sickness and bringing power in his eyes again, feeling it pooling in his shoulders as he brought the sword down, clean and perfect, through bodies that massed in his path, hearing the similar sound like that of chopping wood as he hacked bone and flesh and sinew.

Flawless victory. They burst outdoors, and almost fell back again. The sunlight spilled in through the trees, birds chirping filled the air, the smell of pine filling his lungs. He exhaled, and looked at Maya. She looked like a wild cat who just stepped in water and was not unhappy but not quite knowing what to do with herself. He took her hand.

He came to the stunning conclusion that although she was skilled, she could kill, but she had never been outside before. He had been, on occasion, but this was a whole new playground.

He reached to take her hand but she pulled her hand away. "Don't touch me," she growled, and stepped forward. One foot in front of the other, before she started to run. He sprung after her with the compelling desire to throw back his head and howl like a wolf. The air felt so good on his face, through his hair. He tore off his jacket and let it fall behind him, vanishing once he breasted the next hill and followed his wild sister to the dark heart of the forest.


	2. Danger

Author's Notes: Yes, this is your author speaking... please be prepared for a story that may not make much sense, but will unveil itself. This is my Sephiroth clone's history... and in honor of my bestest online friend in the whole of the planet, Shannan of PA. I love her!

--Chapter 2--

_Danger_

Maya curled up against the side of their little camp, in the arms of a huge oak tree. It loomed over them, about as thick and protective as an actual ceiling. She probably didn't miss the ceilings, but she had been sick almost four times since they left... and it mostly on account of her lack of medication.

Sephiroth delicately held her hair back for her every time she was sick. He held her hand and brushed the sweat from the back of her neck where it collected in droplets that smelled like flowers. She looked a little better and even eyed the rabbit that was turning on the spit. Their little fire was enough to keep them safe on a miserably hot night like tonight. Sephiroth sprawled along the ground like a big cat, nothing beneath him except the ground. He hated it, having need of a blanket and some new clothes eventually. Only a week out and Maya was already complaining.

"It's so boring," she sighed, laying back and staring across the flames into his eyes. "You won't spar with me, even though I've been begging you for the last three days."

"To my utter dismay. I almost want to fall on my sword if you ask me one more time," he replied, turning the rabbit again with one long-armed reach.

"Oh," her voice cooed. "Does my poor big bruddah not wanna play with little old me anymore? Is that damn rabbit done yet?" Her voice changed, vicious with impatient to ask this final question. She got up, reached for the rabbit, and ripped a piece off the piping hot flesh. She took pleasure in the pain, as if any amount was good and beautiful. She blew on it once before taking a greedy bite and chewing, hot juice spilling down her chin.

Sephiroth frowned. He hated the way she ate, as if she were like those other disgusting men. He removed the meat to let it cool off before it got too roasted.

"Shall we continue toward the west?" he said softly, and she nodded a little. "Toward that feeling? Have you felt it, too? Like something calling..."

"Dear brother," replied she; "I hear voices all the time. How do I know which one to listen to? They talk all the time... the hell am I supposed to do? Tell them to shut up? It doesn't work... but...yes, I'll follow 'you'... because of them all, I like yours the best." Giggling, she flopped back, rubbing her belly, pulling up her shirt to get at the skin and scratch.

Sephiroth didn't know how to answer that. But he felt comforted to know that her feelings hadn't changed with their environment; he wasn't bored, but actually pleased with this change of pace. But, alas, it was hot out, his clothes were becoming uncomfortable, and things needed to change again. "Tomorrow morning, post haste," he mumbled as he tore off some meat and ate it up good.

------

Morning came like a dream, touching the sky and painting it pink and then yellow as if someone had slashed at the sky with a huge one mile brush back and forth covered with ochre and rouge. Sephiroth sat in the oak tree, resting his elbow against the branch above his head, his bleary eyes meshing those colors together until he couldn't figure out where one ended and the other began. He blinked his eyes once, and the sky was clear again. He tilted his head downward, peering into the blackened remains of their fire, and the coat where Maya was sleeping.

That girl barely stirred while she slept, when she finally did sleep. He picked his way down the branches, hopping the last step and crawled over to her carefully, until his hands touched the edge of her coat. He reached underneath it enough to lift it and he crawled in behind her, yawning once as he used his arm for a pillow. Her breathing was quick and hitched, and her slight stirrings indicated that she was most likely dreaming.

He took a piece of hair away from her mouth and tucked it behind her ear. Her lips were pouty and chapped, dark bags under her eyes and yet she was still beautiful to him. What did she dream? What monsters were bigger than her?

Another moment passed, and Maya awoke with bloodshot eyes and a very angry disposition. She smacked Sephiroth for sleeping so close, fear in her eyes of him, fear of any man who touched her. He said nothing.

"Are you ready to go?" Sephiroth inquired softly, scattering the ashes of their presence by kicking the fireplace all over the place as she watched.

Hooking her sword to her belt, she grunted her assent. Then they were off, speeding away as fast as their bodies could carry them. Had it been a week earlier, they would have been traveling much faster than this. But they were hungry and tired and having had no breakfast, they were dogging their way toward the strange 'voices' leading them by their souls into oblivion.

What monsters could have roamed the countryside were of no concern to them. They were even larger monsters, and the weaklings were likely to stay out of their way as long as they were quiet. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky and below the foliage and canopy of the trees, it was cool. A stream ran nearby, and they drank in turn while the other watched for danger.

Sephiroth was still reeling from the extreme cold of the water. It trickled down his throat, and settled in his stomach. It felt good, and took the edge off of his quickly renewing hunger. Even more pressing was the sound that was growing louder each moment they lingered. It was a buzz-sawing, grating noise that made him want to scratch at his ears and kill something, but it was nothing like the sounds they used at the facility to torture and control.

"Do you hear it?" he whispered, beginning to tremble. His face was stricken, looking as if he were struggling with a deeply troubling thought. "Would they dare come after us?"

"If they're stupid, they would," Maya responded as she rose, stretching demurely like a feline. "But honestly, in this forest, is it so hard to believe we could easily take them all down? They raised us the way they wanted - the best, the most bloodthirsty killers in the world."

He was inclined to agree. After all, they'd escaped once, and in a blast of instant recollection he recalled the feeling of crushing that human's heart in his grasp. It felt good then, but now it frightened him.

They split up, and waited in the protection of mother nature, their swords sheathed as the light from the sun would reflect from the perfectly maintained steel. The sound grew louder to the point of becoming unbearable. Maya signaled to him; there they were, straight through a grassy hill that opened up to the sky in the middle of the forest. They were ATV's, manned by two riders, one to drive and another to shoot those nasty speed-shooters that Sephiroth loved to make fun of.

One of them drove underneath his tree. He propelled himself down, knocking the shooter from behind the rider and landed in his place. He allowed himself to enjoy the view before he tapped his comrade on the shoulder. "Hello, there!" he cried, before knocking his head hard with his sword sheath and sending him spiraling into the ground. Sephiroth scooted up to take control of the ATV and turn it around, kicking his foot out to keep it from falling over because of the sudden sharpness of his turn.

He couldn't recall where he'd last seen Maya, but her measures of murder were far crueler yet than his own. He gritted his teeth to ignore the possibilities. He drove the machine into another one, leaping clear of the explosion before it could touch him, thus disposing of more pursuers. Debris came rattling down around his ears, and a hot piece of metal landed on his arm. Biting on the pain, he stood up slowly and leapt into the tree again. Three more ATV's drove past, earning a soft curse from his chapped lips. His limbs were trembling badly, either from excitement or hunger - he couldn't decide which. He sank back against the trees, puzzled by his weakness while he listened to Maya taunt and torture her victims. It occurred to him that she could have taken on every last one without breaking a sweat, without his help.

"Just what the hell is wrong with me?" he hissed bitterly, grinding his fingernails into his palms.

A few minutes of silence passed, while he closed his eyes and imagined himself someplace that wasn't now littered with death and destruction. When he opened those glowing blue orbs again, he saw her bending over him, kneeling in front of him, and brushing his hair away from his face with almost motherly concern. "Where were you?" she said, a child-like whine to her otherwise womanly tone, as if reprimanding his absence.

"I was... resting," he responded with a grumble from his gut. "I'm hungry again."

"You're always hungry!! I hardly need to eat!" She fell back against the tree with him, hugging herself with feverish abandon. "But if we must, we'll eat again. Besides, there's plenty of meat around now, eh?"

Unexpectedly, he turned his head and heaved against the trunk of the tree. "Are you goddamn insane?!" he cried, wiping his mouth. "I refuse to eat human flesh! Animals do that, not me!"

He stood up and leapt down, walking stiffly toward the pulling sound of the voices again. He didn't care if he hurt her feelings. She didn't talk about eating again for the rest of the day.


	3. Stranger

Chapter 3 - _Stranger_

After about fifty miles, the stolen ATV's died and the terrain was left to be traveled on foot. The pair moved like wolves, and when the heat penetrated the canopy they shed their clothes like dead snake skin, often burning them in the fires they warmed themselves with at night. The sun wheeled in the sky, pairing off with the moon in a circular dance of time they barely became aware of. Finally they were free of the forest, and were forced to walk in the open grass with the sun beating down on them.

Maya was down to her torn pants, boots and a dark green bra that was barely substantial enough to cover her chest. Sephiroth went shirtless and his pants ventilated with several open slashes from his sword. The voices from their destination guided them and lightened their spirits when they felt like they wanted to kill each other as an act of mercy. Soldiers as they were, Sephiroth was starving. He had never been so hungry before in his life.

The ocean became a blue line east of their position. Another ten miles or so, a range of mountains began climbing up into the partly cloudy sky, flashing beams of sunlight crawling over the jagged tree-lined crags, giving them an early bearing on what was ahead.

"Are we nearly there?" Maya sighed, kicking a stone ahead of her. "What with you complaining your hungry all the time, and me sweating to death..."

Sephiroth shrugged his shoulders, rubbing his stomach with a slight frown. "How could we tell?" he murmured, trudging along and rubbing his stomach. "Sometimes I can almost... understand what they're saying."

"And what do they say to you, brother?"

Sephiroth slowed down, narrowing his eyes as he tried to focus. The words all tumbled onto him like gentle waves of distant sound. What they said and what they meant could mean two very different things...

"Return. Return to the Planet. Return to us. We're calling." Sephiroth turned to look at her. "And they also say things that just make no sense whatsoever. That I'm a murderer, a planet-killer. What does it all mean?"

"I don't know," Maya replied shortly, her temper meter most likely rising.

"What do they tell you?" the silver-haired man inquired, smirking at her. But her eyes were distant and empty, and her arms clutched at her elbows, walking quickly. An unsettling paleness came about her lips and her face, while her sun-darkened skin was mottled with the sweat of walking in the full heat of the sun.

He repeated the question, taking her arm before she twisted it out of his grasp. Her eyes became feral and vicious, and she spat, "Fuck off!! Stop touching me all the time!!" Her hand rose with one slap just for him, imprinting her mark on his cheek for the rest of the day.

-------

The rest of the day was utterly uneventful until night fell, and the pair hunkered down, having used up all of their matches and lighter fluid in traveling, which wasn't a lot. Sephiroth concentrated, his hands held over a pile of tinder, replaying the image of a fire starting, a spark, life, burning bright. His brows knit together and the fire came, jumping up in the tinder and almost burning his hands. He jerked his hands away, rubbing his palms. He felt a distinct soreness in his shoulders, especially if he tries to roll his shoulder-blades around.

Maya sat behind him. She dripped something cold down his back back and grinned. "Water!" she said happily, before taking a sip from a leather waterskin. She offered him some, which Sephiroth sipped.

"Where did you get this?"

She pointed without speaking. He followed her finger to the dark horizon where the light was fading. He trembled as the wind picked up, cooling his sweat and making him tremble. He saw a figure standing in the wind, dark brown cloak and hood hiding his face from view, which would have been hard to see even at such a distance. He squinted, standing up slowly, almost dropping the waterskin.

"Who are you?!" he demanded, his voice strong and harsh across the smooth grass. He heard no answer, and in the next gust of wind, he shut his eyes to protect his vision from sand. Gone was the man when he opened his eyes again.

"Did you speak to him?" Sephiroth inquired, squatting down, feeding the fire with what little branches of debris he could gather from the fields.

"He said he was from the west. We're expected," she replied cheerfully. She dragged a bundle of blankets and objects from within a tall grass. She cut the rope that bound it together with the knife she carried and spread out a blanket. Her eyes widened, running her fingers over the soft fabric. Then she curled up, rolling around on it like a cat in estrus.

"Hey, don't filthy it all up before I get a chance to sleep on it," Sephiroth warned, crawling over to her after the fire was satisfied. He caught her wrist and bit her in the thumb. Squealing, Maya turned and threw him on his back, and crouched on him, staring down over the well of her breasts.

"Do you think he's from the place we're going?"

"Definitely. Don't ask me how I know. I just do." She pinned his wrists, and he let her, knowing she loved to play like this. It wasn't in his nature to deny her the small amounts of fun she could find in an almost barren place like this.

"What's his name?" he murmured, feeling her body heat spreading over his stomach, the inside of her taut strung thighs squeezing against his hips. "Did you find out from his mind?"

"I felt around, but there was nothing," she purred, stroking his chest, the falling darkness making her brave. She explored the tiny minute scars of science that remained on his body. These scars, years from now, would disappear entirely to make room for newer, deeper scars. "It was like he was completely empty..."

She leaned close, inhaled deeply before kissing his lips. The contact was electrifying - every nerve jumped, thus his body jerked and he made a lazy turn of his leg to a more comfortable position. It never dawned upon his feverish want that it could have been wrong to indulge in her kiss, and while he kissed back, she began to tremble like a newborn foal.

She pulled free, just as he began to feel as if he wouldn't be able to stop it from going further. Rolling away as if he were on fire himself, she struck the ground flat on her stomach, then relaxed as if to let the chill wind cool her irrepressible hormones. He bit his lip, staring at the dark sky in order to concentrate on getting himself back under control. He was only a young man, barely into adulthood by human standards, but very much aware of his needs as an advanced being.

He turned his head, watching Maya start exploring the other contents of the bundle. He wished he knew why he felt so angry.

------

They carried their things early in the morning, continuing west, taking rest and water when they needed to. Food was not so much in short supply, now that Maya had become skilled in pouncing after rabbits and voles like a skilled fox. She dove her hand into rabbit holes and burrows and more often than not, did not produce much. But her efforts had given them food enough, so Sephiroth didn't complain even when he didn't feel full.

Also, the ache on his back did not decease, but continued well into the next two days, until they at last saw a garden.

A vast wall of shrubbery, well-manicured and cut, blocked the rest of it from view. There was the smell of flowers which soothed their abused senses like a balm, and on the ground were the dried remains of old petals. A whisper of thought came with the wind, making Sephiroth shudder and yet step forward expectantly, as if to hear more.

"Can you hear my thoughts?" he asked the wind, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Can you feel everything I feel? What is this damn sorcery?"

"It's the spirits," said Maya. "Always spirits. Talking away. What do they tell me? I can't say." She didn't notice the unintentional rhyme, and if he did he didn't show it. Then, slowly, she slipped her hand in his and went forward with him. "I don't know."

They both agreed to keep going without speaking. The path that cut through the grass was perfect and immaculate aside from the petals which fell in a gentle rain of aroma each time the wind blew their way. A song filled his head, so full of voices that it hurt for awhile. She shared the same tune, for she started humming it quietly. Where they were going, they did not know. Just the garden, and the temple beyond that, and the daunting kindness of its people.


	4. Captives

Chapter 4 - _Captives_

Maya opened her eyes first. The pounding agony of the voices had stilled; her body was rested but hungry. Each second that ticked past made her wish she had something else to do than sleep, or lie still. The last snapshot memory she recalled was Sephiroth falling into the embrace of one of the cloaked men. And their _skin_... it was like it was metal, shiny and pale...

Then she realized Sephiroth wasn't near her. She shot up with a jolt of alarm, gasping at the stark cold that struck her. It must have been night, or else it was just the natural temperature of the room. She slipped out the soft, thick blankets with a sheet wrapped around her. All of her clothes were gone, probably burned from the smell. She saw a bath of water in a large porcelain tub, steaming and bubbly. She inched over to it, noticed clothing laid aside in a wooden chair nearby. She slipped out of the sheet and slid her naked body into the heat.

Following a groan of pleasure, she sucked in her breath and let it out again a little softer, tipping her hair back into the sweet-smelling water. Whoever these people were, they knew how to live. She'd never known pleasure before this. Still... her nerves were jumpy and every time she thought she heard something, her body lurched upward, and her eyes widened with alarm.

A voice from next to her spoke in a low, purring tone. "Don't you know how to relax?"

Sephiroth lazily sprawled next to her in the chair with her clothes in his lap. He was as perfectly naked as she was, only she was using her clothes she was supposed to wear as a cover. "Don't worry," he continued, "I've already washed."

She smiled nervously before looking away, blushing slightly. It wasn't like her to act so anxious around him. Maybe it was the water. Her 'brother' reached out, brushing her hair out of her face, sliding it behind her ear. Shuddering more, the woman slid further away in the large tub. "What's wrong with you?" he asked her, dropping his fingertips into the water with his arm hanging over the side of the tub. He put her clothes aside on the floor and tucked one of his legs up to his chest for protection.

"I don't know where we are," she whispered. "I don't know these people are, what they want. I'm goddamn scared," she admitted finally with a growl, smacking the water.

Sephiroth made an effort to comfort her while squinting as some of the water splashed his arm. "Want me to get into the tub with you? I don't see much reason why you should be scared at all." He paused, then added as an afterthought: "You know I'll protect you..."

"I don't need your protection! I j-just want your understanding!" She punched the tub and hissed at the pain, her cold Mako greens blazing abruptly and then quieting.

Sephiroth looked away, his jaw firm, clenching his teeth. Only the knock at the door disturbed him from his thoughts. He quickly pulled on a robe that was folded in the closet, and he tied it around his waist. Then he answered the door, unprepared to see an old man standing before him with the unique silver flesh of these odd people. He didn't necessarily appear old. His face was strong and wise, kindly - all the things Sephiroth's face was not. He wore a pale green robe and carried himself with respect.

"You are needed in the counsel room," he told them. He bowed slightly. "I know that you're both tired and wary, but I assure you that we are more than glad you've come. We welcome you and only wish to learn more about you."

"When I'm damn good and ready to talk about myself, I'll do it. Otherwise, you'll excuse me while I find something more suitable to dress in," Sephiroth snarled, before promptly slamming the door. He wasn't in the best of moods to feel charitable. Maya rolled her eyes and stood up, grabbing a towel as she stepped from the tub onto the floor, wrapping it around herself.

Sephiroth sat at a long, beautifully carved table of oak in a room of marble stone and multiple wall sconces. The windows were plain but pretty, with long white curtains draping from the tall ceiling. Clearly this room was meant to impress and engage an individual's inner peace. It only made Sephiroth feel tired.

The man who was at the door sat at the head of the table. A crease was in his brow, showing his disapproval for Sephiroth's lateness. Maya sat next to him, and her mind was elsewhere as she scratched her arm in impatience.

"I am Sabele," the green-cloaked elder said. Around him sat five other such elders, three of them being themselves women with long, straight white hair down to their backs in thick, neat plaits. "These are the counselors."

The said their names each in turn, inclining their heads. When they looked at Sephiroth expectantly for his name, he looked away uncomfortably and cleared his throat, feigning agitation. He said, "Sephiroth," and little else.

"Well, Sephiroth," said a woman named Makela. "We are interested in how you've come to be at the temple..."

"... for it is often said that those who aren't meant to find it never do." Sabele said, her hands rising elegantly to smooth back her long, silver-white hair.

Sephiroth had no response for that. But those around the table were watching the twins with a riveted interest. It made him even more uncomfortable. He felt a thousand questions floating from them as if they couldn't help but let them levitate to his mind. Crossing his legs under the table, he leaned back and sighed, relatively bored.

"Well, we'll just be on our way as soon as we can," Maya said cheerfully; her face was a mask of the most fragile amiability.

"You can't leave," Makela responded immediately. "You must stay here until we discern the meaning of your presence." There was a silence, as the Counsel regarded itself with eyes of worry and understanding. When Makela spoke more, it was about a prophecy that neither of the twins cared about. "It is said those that visit us will take the last of our secrets with them... and nothing else behind."

Maya snorted with disgust. Sephiroth only stared blankly in total incomprehension. Then his expression soured and his mouth tightened. "You mean you won't let us leave," he stated blandly. He stood up suddenly, surprising everyone except Maya, who followed him to the door as he called over his shoulder. "Watch me!"

In a few minutes he was outside in the garden, sword in hand, hacking away at the trees before trying to struggle through. Maya stood by uncomfortably, watching him as he disappeared through the bushes... and then appeared, thrown back with such force that he landed on his rear.

"What the hell!" His fist struck the earth without mercy, the petals falling around him. He turned around and stood up, facing his new enemies which threatened to hold him so. His rage was palpable, turning the dirt grey under his boots.

Before Sephiroth could strike, Sabele raised her hand, snatching the weapon from his grasp and sending it sailing harmlessly into the bushes. "Go and get it," she said, her eyes narrowing. "If you dare. Or you can stay here peacefully." There was no threat in her voice, but there was a promise in her manner that told him if he would like to try escaping again...

"I don't want to stay here!" Maya said suddenly, and dropped into a crouch. Sabele looked at her evenly, and Maya submitted but not happily.

"Prophecy tells us that you will not be permitted to leave unless invited to do so by an outsider," she whispered harshly. "It spoke of a loss of our secrets, our most sacred powers... and that is why you must stay."

Sephiroth and Maya looked at each other. Neither of them were happy with the decision. They definitely had no desire to stay where they obviously didn't feel wanted. But Sabele didn't look pleased either.

"Just stay out of our way, and we'll stay out of your sight as much as possible," Sephiroth snapped angrily, getting to his feet almost at the same speed as Maya as she came up from her crouch. Sephiroth gave one last longing look into the bushes where his sword had gone. Makela called it back, setting it into the ground point first next to its owner.

"I suppose now that we are all in agreement," Sabele conceded. "We are going to retire. What you do with your spare time is none of our business. Harm no one, kill no one, and if you must break something, make sure it's something relatively useless." There was a ghost of a smile at this last, before turning with the remainder of the council.

Maya snarled disgustedly. "Weirdos."


End file.
